


it's right before my eyes (it's my sweet beginning)

by iamleavingthisfandom



Series: I can take it if it's what I want to do [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff, Fuck the Canon, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, but it's resolved, it's all about the feelings, there are no mentions of the clown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 12:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21015719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamleavingthisfandom/pseuds/iamleavingthisfandom
Summary: He thought he had it under control and he would take whatever he could get and be grateful for it. They’d still carried on with the friendship as always, their bickering and the jokes stayed the same, and the rest of the Losers were none the wiser. That lasted for a couple of months.Until one October night, he thought they could just carry on like this until they graduated.





	it's right before my eyes (it's my sweet beginning)

**Author's Note:**

> Again, it's kinda high school AU (or not AU?) , but I don't know, so like. Whatever. It's kinda modern AU, but except for one Spotify reference it really doesn't matter.
> 
> Also it's all third-person, but I change povs a bit earlier than halfway through from Eddie's to Richie's.
> 
> People asked for a second part, I wrote the second part. 
> 
> The title's from What You Know by Two Door Cinema Club again, bc who the fuck is originality? Never heard of her.
> 
> Uuuuh, there's underage drinking, tho? If you're from the US, it's underage, anyway, otherwise you know, it's no. If that bothers anyone, ya know.

The first time it happened, it wasn’t supposed to lead to anything.

They had been drunk and they’d been laughing the entire night. There was no one else around, since the Losers were all at their respective summer destinations, leaving Eddie and Richie to fend for themselves against the summer vacation boredom. That night, they’d broken out a bottle of vermouth, sneaked out of Richie’s parents’ stash. For the most part, that night was the same as any other: Richie’s parents were away, doing fuck-knows-what (Eddie was always tactful enough not to ask), and they were sitting on the floor of Richie’s room, drinking, and talking, and listening to Spotify, and laughing. That night, as Eddie remembered, Richie had told a particularly funny joke — for the life of him, he could not remember the joke itself now, he just remembered that he doubled over laughing, and he remembered seeing a fond look in Richie’s eyes when he was wiping his own from tears of laughter. 

That was when Eddie found himself looking into Richie’s eyes, the distance between rapidly closing. Richie pressed a short and sweet kiss to his lips and backed away just as suddenly, but Eddie couldn’t help himself and followed him. So what if they ended up on the floor, with Eddie half on top of Richie? He was much more focused on the movement of their lips on each other. 

Was drunkenly making out with your friend whom you’ve been harboring a crush on for at least the last two or three years a good idea? Probably not, but Eddie couldn’t bring himself to think of that when he felt Richie roll them over and trace his jaw line with soft kisses. He wanted to lose himself in the feeling of warm breath in his ear and teeth on his earlobe. 

That first night they’d spent with Richie on top of Eddie, switching between his lips and his neck, and it was very nearly too much. Not only was he entirely lost in it, he came the closest he’d ever been to blurting his feelings out loud.

After next morning’s mention that “it didn’t have to become _a thing_” from Richie, he’d never let himself be as lost ever again, keeping acute awareness of how he could make Richie happiest without letting him know. He’d managed to replace the “I love you”s that threatened to spill out with profanities, and he would not say Richie’s name. He never stayed after, afraid of what Richie might read in his eyes, nor did he mention those nights outside of Richie’s room, too scared of what implications that might have. 

But he couldn’t help coming back to Richie’s place. He came back a couple nights after the drunken one, reaching for Richie’s lips without any alcohol in his system, and Richie let him. That was more than he could ever hope for, and he got more and more careful as whatever they had went on, scared of fucking things up. 

He barely ever let himself kiss Richie for longer than a few seconds after that first night, afraid he’d be too gone if he did. 

He thought he had it under control and he would take whatever he could get and be grateful for it. They’d still carried on with the friendship as always, their bickering and the jokes stayed the same, and the rest of the Losers were none the wiser. That lasted for a couple of months.

Until one October night, he thought they could just carry on like this until they graduated and possibly went to different colleges. 

***

It was a rainy October night, the chill of fall overtaking the warm afternoons and preparing the town for the cold winter. Richie was holed up in his room, working on his English homework, the deadline coming up all too soon. He heard his phone ping with a message and looked up from the book, grateful for any distraction.

**Eddie, 8:32 p.m.**  
_can I come over?_

He felt an ache in his chest swell, but replied with a quick “yeah” before closing his books and walking downstairs so as to not miss the moment he got there. It was cold outside, after all. 

The soft knock came only seven minutes later (yes, he kept glancing at the clock), as if Eddie was already in the area before texting him. He walked to the door and unlocked it, only to find a rain-soaked Eddie with reddish eyes, shivering. He pulled his friend inside and closed the door. 

“What happened? No, wait, I’ll get you a towel and some dry clothes, and you can tell me then, okay?” He got a nod from shivering Eddie before practically running to the bathroom to get his favorite plush towel. 

By the time he was back at the front door, Eddie had toed his sneakers off. He handed him the towel and led the way upstairs, to his bedroom. Once inside, he only turned around for a few moments, rummaging through his closet to pull out his comfiest sweatshirt and some pajama pants, but when he turned around, Eddie had already stripped down to his underwear, the towel wrapped loosely around his shoulders. Usually, seeing him in his underwear led to a flurry of emotions for Richie, which included arousal, heartache, and some more that he couldn’t quite put into words. This time was different. Eddie looked small, his shoulders hunched and his gaze down. He still got shivers every once in a while, but it was nowhere near the full-on shaking when he had just gotten there.

Richie handed Eddie the clothes. He only waited a heartbeat and, before he could stop himself, he was lifting the towel off his shoulders to gently dry his hair. Somehow, this intimate gesture felt like the right thing to do. Eddie let him, so maybe it was. 

Eddie didn’t wait for him to turn around before he started dressing himself. He pulled the sweatshirt on, and Richie had to look away, because the sight of Eddie in his clothes might have just been a bit too much for him. This wasn’t nearly the first time it had happened, but it meant something new now. It made his heart flutter in ways he knew it shouldn’t have. He wouldn’t do anything about it, though.

He suddenly felt arms around him. Lost in thought, he missed the moment the pajama pants were on, too, and the towel was thrown to the floor along with Eddie’s soaked clothes. They’d deal with those later. For now, he pulled Eddie into a tight hug and felt him relax into the hold. 

“What happened?” he asked, feeling oddly protective of Eddie. Well, maybe it wasn’t really odd. He tried to pull away from the hug to look for any clues in his friend’s eyes, but he felt arms clinging tightly to him, so he sighed and pet Eddie’s wet hair in a comforting gesture. “Hey, let’s sit down, okay?” a feeble nod and the grip relaxing slightly were his only reply. That was enough, though. He pulled them both towards his bed and sat down with his back to the wall. Eddie leaned into him immediately, and he let his arms curl around the boy again. He ran a hand up and down his shoulder and waited for Eddie to find his voice. 

“It’s nothing, it’s just,” he paused, as if trying to find the right words. “I just had a fight with mom. She went on about how she didn’t like me spending nights over at any of the Losers’ places, and so we argued and I didn’t know where else I’d go.” Somehow, Richie heard ‘I didn’t want to go anywhere else’ in that. He could often hear things without Eddie having to say them. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of Eddie’s head to stop himself from saying something stupid. 

“She’s just worried.” This felt like the wrong time to make jokes, so he swallowed his immediate go-to reaction. “It’s not right of her to insist you shouldn’t, but she’s just—”

“I know,” Eddie interrupted. Richie bit his tongue, not knowing what else to say. Eddie turned around to face him, and it was clear he was on the verge of crying. Despite himself, Richie’s hand flew up to stroke his cheek, and Eddie leaned into the touch, looking into his eyes with a vulnerable expression he rarely ever wore. “Can I,” he bit his lip and his voice turned to whisper. “Can you just kiss me?” 

“Are you sure?” there was no way he couldn’t feel Richie’s heartbeat speeding up, both in anticipation and in worry. 

“Please,” he said softly, and Richie nodded, bringing him into a kiss with his hand. The other, rare, kisses that they’d shared since the first night were never as soft as this one. This one felt softer, full of dangerous feelings that would certainly give him away, Richie thought, but he couldn’t help it. He kept it gentle and slow, just sweet movement of lips against one another. Eddie was the one to break the kiss and hide his face into Richie’s shoulder, his hand going to stroke Eddie’s back in a soothing way.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Richie heard, and his heart was instantly in his throat. _He’d fucked up, he’d fucked up, he’d fucked—_ “I can’t keep doing this, because I love you, and I can’t hide it anymore. I want to come to you when I’m upset, and I want to be able to wear your sweatshirts, and I want to be able to kiss you anytime, and I can’t go on like this, because I want everything, and it’s too painful to not be able to have all of you.” He couldn’t find words to say while Eddie was talking, but as he felt him shaking slightly towards the end, he’d just hugged him tighter.

“You do,” his voice was practically inaudible, so he cleared his throat. “You can.” Eddie looked up at him with big eyes, hopeful and confused. “Have all of me, that is. If you’ll— if you’ll have me.” He cursed himself for not being articulate enough, _this wasn’t how Eddie needed to hear this, man up, Rich._ “I’m saying, I love you, too, Eds. And I want to have all of you, too.” He felt too vulnerable, he was scared, and he hated being this brave, because this was wrecking him, but somehow having to be himself and not being able to hide didn’t matter; none of that mattered, because Eddie’s eyes held tears again, but he was smiling. It was a tentative smile, unsure and surprised, but it was the only thing that mattered in the entire world. And if he needed to be himself and be brave again, he would, if only to make Eddie smile like that again. He offered a small smile in return. 

“Kiss me again,” Eddie prompted, and Richie needed no more encouragement as he let their lips come together in a kiss full of promise. It wasn’t as smooth as some of the other ones they’d shared; they were both smiling into it, but it marked the beginning of something new, of something Richie had never let himself hope for. Eddie rested his forehead against Richie’s as they broke the kiss. 

“And don’t call me Eds,” he said, smiling nonetheless.

“You love it, though.” Eddie didn’t answer, but his chuckle said it for him. “Does this mean I can call you my boyfriend now?” Eddie met his gaze as he sat back.

“If you want to,” Eddie responded, his hand tangling itself into Richie’s hair.

“I want to,” Richie grinned, and Eddie answered in kind. 

“I do, too,” he brought Richie into another kiss. “Also I’m keeping this sweatshirt. And I’m stealing that blue one you have, the one that compliments my eyes, with the sleeves I can hide my hands in.” Richie just laughed in response, kissing him again. 

He could never say no to Eddie.


End file.
